The Green Word
by Stalker of Stories
Summary: Pulled by the Mist to Ivalice, Harry is raised by viera for his unique ability to hear the Wood despite being hume. The Wood knows much, including what role he will have in the future. Eventual Basch/Harry, may be one-sided, slash, short story.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Eventual slash (at least one-sided), some messing with canon, doesn't actually contain much of the game, crossover, spoilers through the end of the game, contains viera males (they do exist, according to SquareEnix... and there are only a few mentioned here anyway), lots of narrative.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter novel, concepts, and characters belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates of whom I am not one. Final Fantasy XII game, concept, plot, characters, and locations belong to SquareEnix and various others who I really don't have the space to name, it suffices to say that I am not among them.

Chapter 1

In a house on a world called "Earth", a mother died protecting her son. This was an act of desperation by the mother, who could have lived, and done entirely in vain. The murderer used a spell called the Killing Curse, which killed the mother in an instant; when the same was done to the son, he did not die.

The boy watched his mother die from the inside of his crib. He was young – 15 months to the day since his birth – and did not yet understand what "death" was. He did not understand that his mother would not get up from the floor, that his father would not walk in the door any minute to say good night, or that the strange man before him wanted him to be dead because of a misunderstood power known to this Earth as "prophecy."

The dominant race, "humans", were mostly ignorant that prophecy existed, and the small percentage that DID know – such a small amount that, somehow, the rest of the planet did not know of their existence – did not _really_ know. They did not even understand what truly made them different, their magic.

They used magic for silly things – getting things from across a room, picking up objects, travel, and killing each other – and never bothered to understand that magic was created from Mist. On this earth, Mist had a low concentration that did not foster the diversity of other worlds, but it was enough for magic, and for Prophecy.

Prophecy was, in fact, highly concentrated Mist. This Mist was what protected the toddler, as it wrapped protectively around its chosen child, casting a spell called "Reflect" which did not exist on this Earth. The Reflect did exactly as its name implies, and reflected the Killing Curse back on its source, ripping the murderer's soul from his body.

Reflect could not stop the non-magic that came with the Killing Curse. It was penetrated by a bit of the murderer's soul, which latched on to the nearest living thing. The Mist roiled angrily and pulled at the piece of soul, trying to wrench it out of the head of the boy who was now screaming in pain.

In an act of desperation, the Mist _pulled_, and brought the boy to a world where Mist was in a far higher concentration. It took the boy to the Golmore Jungle in Kerwon, which was part of the Great Continent of Hume Empires, Ivalice. In this jungle, the Wood as its denizens referred reverently to it, there was a village, at least one hundred feet above the ground, where lived the Wood's favored, the viera.

The child landed in front of one such viera, a middle-aged female – at 114 years (1) – Salve-Maker called Dyjs. She was only half surprised at the sudden appearance, having felt a swell in the Mist beforehand, as had all the others in the village, who were doubtless on their way to see why the Mist had suddenly concentrated so.

Dyjs slowly stood from where she had been making her medicines, perking her long, rabbit-like ears forward in curiosity. The Mist swirled idly around the child, both that of the Wood and that which came with him.

The wind blew, and she could hear the Wood singing curiously and in a rather pleased manner... yet he was a hume child, with hume ears rather than viera, and he was not awake. Deciding the Wood would not be so pleased without reason, Dyjs strode forward, the tall heels of her shoes silent on the platform. Kneeling before the child, she saw he was young, looking not two years old. The Mist had thinned some around him, and the song of the Wood lost its curious tone.

Despite what he was, the Wood liked this child. She said he could hear her, was _listening_, even though he was asleep. A hume cannot hear the Wood, she said, but this hume had a magic that wanted to hear her. He was good, and kind, and even though he was small now he would grow to be a wonderful viera.

Dyjs asked if she was to ask Jote to call a meeting with the leader of the male viera (2), but she said no. The Wood wanted him to stay in Eruyt.

Moreover, the Wood wanted him to stay with _her_.

"Dyjs, is this a responsibility you can take on?" Jote's voice broke through the Wood's song gently, and Dyjs stood from her crouched position, allowing her sheer white skirt to settle back to its accustomed place at her upper thigh.

"I can," she confirmed. "The Wood wishes it, so it is my burden to take. He will be trained in my way until he is of age by hume reckoning to decide." The Wood told her he would not want to be a Wood-Warder, but Dyjs kept firm to it. The Wood took into account his decision, and so would she. Again she kneeled and picked up the small sleeping form, careful to keep her long nails from him.

She wondered, for an idle moment, if _this_ was why the Wood had not called to her at the last meeting of mates. If she had, even now she would be in the males' village for some time before giving birth and nursing ended. The child turned automatically toward her chest, breaking her from the thought. He would be old enough to have been weaned by now, so it was likely only habit that caused the child to do this. The Wood agreed and told her to prepare food for the child; he would wake again soon, confused, hungry, and low on Mist-reception Power.

If this was the child magically exhausted, Dyjs wondered how strong his base magic was.

* * *

Jote watched from above as the small hume – aged six years, approximately – loped along the ground after some young Wood-Warders in training. Although he was not a viera, he had quickly taken to their ways, too young to be like his birth people.

When he had awoken after his arrival, Jote recalled that his speech and motor facilities were limited when compared to a viera of comparable age, be that male or female, but were perhaps advanced for a hume. He had understood some of what they said, claiming he was called "Harry". He asked after his mother and father, only to stop when the Wood sang. Then he cried.

His parents were "gone" the Wood said, returned to nature. Jote understood they were dead.

As part of his integration into viera society, the boy was renamed Lejn, and it wasn't long before the toddler's short memory completely erased any acknowledgment of his hume name, parents, and heritage prior to his arrival in the village. Lejn was perhaps more wily than the children he played with, but he was quick to learn patience and how to behave appropriately with the other children. The younger females he played with realized he was a hume, but for a hume he was quite in tune with the Wood, and he was accepted for this.

Jote stepped slowly back on the platform as Dyjs approached the playing children, likely for training Lejn. She had more important matters to deal with than watching children at play; after all, it wasn't every day that males walked the paths of the village, and certainly not without the Wood calling for a meeting.

"He thrives," Jote informed them, a small gust of wind the only sign of the Wood's song on her ears. She turned to the males, daring them to rebuff her.

There were two males, both of them dark-skinned Rava (3). Just as the females, they had long feet and had to wear stiletto heels to walk comfortably. Their dress was more immodest than the standard female's, consisting mainly of a metal loin cloth with some vine-like, flexible metal winding around the upper thighs and lower stomach. The tail-ornament was slimmer than those worn by females (4), and they were both muscular, Wood-Warders of the male village. Their ears were also slimmer, making them appear longer than they were.

Of the two, it was obvious to Jote which was the leader. He was young yet, not fifty, but he was notably in charge of the younger male with him. The other was only just coming into adulthood, the Wood wouldn't assign him a mate for some time.

"He thrives, yes," agreed the leader. He was Hrel, son of the males' chieftain. Jote had given birth to him, but she was not his mother in the hume sense. "But he is a hume. The Wood does not suffer humes to walk her verdant path." He recited the Green Word verbatim, as any viera could.

"The Wood herself brought him to us," Jote continued. The males, of course, knew this. When the Wood had admitted the child, she had sent Mjrn as an emissary to the males, to tell them what had happened. The Wood would not have told them unless they asked, and even viera could be irrational at times; for Jote, the best example of this was Fran, and the viera who slowly followed her from the Wood.

"If he is to be suffered-"

"He is not suffered," Jote interrupted calmly. They were not the first young males she had dealt with. They were not as level as the females and forgot, sometimes, what made them superior to humes. "Lejn walks as a viera through the Wood and she embraces him. He learns with our daughters and listens to the Wood."

"The ears of a hume are dull to the Wood," the younger recited. He was Sian; in time, the Wood would mate him to one of the apprentice salve-makers, Ktjn.

"His ears are dull, but he hears her all the same," Jote informed them. "Lejn will walk here so long as it is the will of the Wood. That is the Green Word."

Both males were suitably chastised as the wind caressed them, the Wood delivering her verdict on the matter even as Jote said it aloud. The Wood was forgiving of them; they were young, and while females sometimes gave in to their wanderlust, males never left the Wood, instead giving in to anger and distrust. Males had their own faults just as females had theirs.

The quiet clack of small heels heralded the approach of a group of children, Lejn among them as his gait was not as light as the others. Jote deftly stepped forward, allowing the children to pass her by. Lejn was not as fast, nor as graceful as the others, but he was learning. His shoes had short heels because hume children had such small feet, but Jote thought he would be more… viera-like as he aged.

The males watched a moment before seeming to settle. They returned to their village.

* * *

Careful, moving quickly, never stopping but never going too far. Creeping, slowly, low to the ground, then up in a tree, running along the paths. Lejn did his best.

He had grown into his body – he was of decent height, taller than some viera females discounting the ears, but shorter than others. He was naturally on the thin side, comprised of compact muscle and hard bone as he grew and learned. His hair was black, the natural opposite of the viera, and his skin was tan, but still paler than any veena viera – still, he kept to viera tradition, his wild hair grown long and tamed by its own weight.

The flexible metal of his clothes coiled and stretched as he stalked his prey, a small group of Wood-Warders following behind. His attire covered more than most males, but they were the ones who crafted his clothing, and followed their style rather than that of his peers. The metallic tendrils wound around his upper legs and lower stomach, climbing to his chest from the material that covered his groin and buttocks.

He sprung forward, using the extra length his stilettos added to his legs to his advantage. A dagger was taken from the holster at his waist, ignoring the bow strapped to his back, and stabbed down viciously, humanely.

The Vorpal Bunny barely saw him before its eyes clouded over with death.

Lejn put his blade under the tail and pulled up, cutting off the key ingredient that he required for his Vision Dust. The Wood-Warders collected their arrows; some had struck the rabbit, but it was a quick creature and avoided most of the projectiles. Still, had it not been for the Warders, Lejn wouldn't have been able to retrieve the tail. He thanked them.

His feet were silent as he followed the Warders back to the village. They walked in silence, listening to the Wood. A few Panthers sought to threaten them, but weak ice spells were sufficient to ward them off.

Lejn was tired. The hunt had been long, and he was not a warrior who was accustomed to such things. Worse, the journey had brought them to the Feywood, where crueler beasts dwelt, Mandragora and worse. They had not gone far, but it was enough for Lejn to realize that here the song of the Wood changed, something _darker_ trying to draw him to somewhere he neither knew nor liked. Worse still, the Wood-Warders seemed to have not heard that song.

He shuddered at that thought, but could do nothing about it. He would tell Jote and Dyjs, and they would scold him for being so humely stubborn as to follow his prey out of the Wood, and that would be the end of it.

Soon after, Lejn was instated as a full Salve-Maker of the viera. He did his job with pride, knowing that as a hume it was a major accomplishment to have such skills, especially when so young in comparison to many viera when they mastered the art. But he had been taught by Dyjs, and she was always pressing him onward in his training because his life would be so much shorter than that of a viera. If he was to accomplish something, he had to learn fast.

The Wood told him that she had designs for him. He would not mate to a viera, for that would result in an abomination, a feol, and though he was near to viera he was not truly one of them. The Wood wanted him to do something, and he would know when she told him of it.

So Lejn waited for the time when he would be needed, sharpening his skill with his bow and dagger, the only weapons he found himself capable of wielding, and doing his best to increase his ability with magic.

* * *

"There is something wrong! I have to go after her!" Lejn protested. He stood before Jote, pleading. "She left of her own will, but what happened after was not. Allow me to go after her; she will return to the Wood after this, I am certain! Humes will not have dulled her ears!"

"It is the will of the Wood that any viera who abandons her is lost to us," Jote's voice was calm, but Lejn wished there was some concern there, some forgiveness. He was not ignorant; he knew that he felt emotions differently from viera, and despite that they had raised him for _decades_, it was against the inherent nature of a hume to be like the viera. He could not be so calm, so unforgiving, even when the Wood whispered to him that now was not his time to leave the Wood, soon but not yet.

"She has been gone less than a day; surely the Wood tells you of her current peril as she does me!" Lejn protested further. He wasn't asking for much. Just one Wood-Warder to accompany him to the Henne Mines.

"Surely the Wood tells you that others will rescue Mjrn, as she does me," Jote countered.

"I will not trust her life to humes! That they rescue her does not bring favor to the viera!" Lejn knew his statement was contradictory, but he was also not the same as a normal hume. Perhaps it was from being raised in the Wood, or it may have begun with his natural affinity toward the Mist that made him a greater caster of spells.

Jote stood taller, looking down on Lejn, telling him she knew of his hypocrisy. "Time will tell." She retired then, but Lejn was not contented. He had always listened to the Wood, ever since he was a child and learning to speak and run. But, then, the Wood had never before told him he could not do what he wanted.

He apologized silently to the Wood as he exited the village, his dagger and a pouch full of salves bouncing at his hip, with his bow and a quiver of his own special arrows strapped to his back. Many viera watched from above, wondering how the Wood would react; they were not deaf to the Wood telling Lejn he was not to leave _yet_, as it cried desperately for him to remain, but his mood was identifiable by the suddenly audible clack of his stilettos as he left.

In less than an hour he reached the edge of the Golmore Jungle and took his first step out onto the Ozmone Plane.

It was... big. Well, it wasn't _that_ big, but this was only a place where a Refuge Crystal had been set up, a special rare magicite that was placed in location of import or where weary travelers frequented, which warded off fiends. There were two in the jungle – one, a special teleportation crystal, was in the village, though it had never been used in Lejn's lifetime, and the other was near the sleeping place of a great wyrm – so he knew well the effects, but the amount of space such a thing worked on was limited. It best extended in closed spaces.

It was when he left the small clearing that he became overwhelmed. There were no trees keeping close to him, no cries and screeches of the jungle, and the Wood's voice was not the voice of the Wood but of the Plane, and the Plane was wild and warlike. It resonated with the Garif. Lejn had once met a Garif who came to trade for salves, and he knew they were a warrior race for all they claimed peace with the land.

Now he saw how they were both. The Plane was vicious and unforgiving. The sun beat down from above unforgiving and unfiltered by the leaves of trees. The fiends here were larger and no less dangerous than those of the Wood – excepting a few breeds living nearer to the Feywood – and it was only luck that Lejn stumbled down a special path while fleeing a giant quadrupedal fiend with a split jaw and shaggy brown fur (5). It was obviously a path for beings with longer legs, perhaps the black and red avians that had stood near the brown fiend, but Harry loped quickly down the steep path.

What made the luck _good_ was that the ravine below was where the Henne Mines lay in wait. Lejn quickly got off the ground and gazed about him. It was big above, when he entered the plain, but now it was as if the sky's only goal was to swallow him whole as he stood at the bottom of the ravine. A great gash ran through the middle with a drop to parts unknown. Across the gash, a great bipedal beast looking to be made of mossy rocks stomped about angrily (6). The Plane sounded especially angry around it, and Lejn found himself unconsciously backing away even though it was too far away to try and fight him.

When his back pressed against the wall of the cliff, Lejn tried to regain himself. He cut off his awareness of the Plane as best he could, and it calmed him some, unnatural as it was. Then he observed the sky, and thought.

It was only the sky, and while he had never seen it so entirely unobscured, he had _known_ it was there. The sky and the sun high above were necessary. He should not fear it, no matter how great and terrible it seemed to him.

When reasoning failed him and his fear did not subside, Lejn ran along the rock wall to where the Henne mines' entrance gaped at him. The sky was swallowed by stone, and that was unfamiliar too, but Lejn still felt more secure in the less-open environment. The mist tingled along his skin, and he could feel the magicite buried in the caves. His magic would be stronger here, like in the Feywood.

It wasn't comfortable or comforting at all, but it was energizing. He wished he had the senses of a viera so that he could follow Mjrn's scent, but he could hear the Mines drowning out the Plane, and that was enough for him. Humes were linear creatures supposedly, so the path to Mjrn would not be complex.

The Mine's song didn't call out to him especially. It was indifferent, conditioned to be so since the humes had started removing magicite. It did not lash out, but it fostered strong fiends out of a passive aggression.

Passing an iron gate, Lejn shuddered. He would not go that way; the terrible wyrm that lay waiting there was far too strong for the likes of him. His magicks would be of help perhaps, but one lone hume against a giant wyrm? No. It was on par with the Wyrm of the Wood and would never be felled by one like Lejn.

The steelings were easily dispatched – whether by arrows or from area effect spells, Lejn knew better than to let them near enough to bite – but when Lejn came to the first intersection, he was attacked by flan, en masse, and there was no keeping them away. It took him three tries to find out what spell element he was supposed to use against them, and by the time they had all melted and no more were dropping from the ceiling or spawning, he was exhausted.

If only Jote had agreed with him and sent some Wood-Warders!

Lejn collapsed under the switch that would open to path to Mjrn, casting healing spells on himself. Slowly, he got up to pick up his fallen arrows, the ones that had flown wide or been stuck in a flan that eventually melted. Each was tipped in a special poison that Dyjs had taught him to make, but it was meant for living fiends, not fiends like flan. He would have to create some elemental arrows to deal with them in the future. Some of his poison arrows were snapped in half, cutting down his supply significantly.

He sat again, still below the switch, and quite suddenly it flipped again all on its own, as if someone had flipped another of the switches in the Mines.

The flan fell upon him again, and Lejn knew no more.

**Author's Note: This story should be pretty short, only 5 chapters (I have an outline – it doesn't cover the amount of chapters, but looking at it I figure 5 is the upper limit with how I want to write this). This chapter is just a teaser though, mostly so I'll actually write the rest of it and to gauge interest. I have other things that I _really_ ought to be working on before I pay any attention to this.**

**I know precisely what I have planned, but there is one matter I can be quite flexible about. The pairing is Basch/Harry... but I'm bouncing between it being one-sided and Basch reciprocating. I've posted a poll on my page.**

(1) Viera live thrice as long as humes (wizards live about twice as long as muggles). 114 is late-30s. Not quite middle aged, but old enough to be considered out of her prime.

(2) Yes, there are viera males. According to the sources I found, the men and women live separately and only come together when it is necessary (couldn't find a physical description so I made so guesses).

(3) There are three types of viera – Rava (dark skinned), Veena (fair skinned, like Fran), and Feol (half-hume).

(4) I was very careful to spin the camera around and found that viera have metal rabbit-tails attached to their clothing. Not sure as to the purpose, but I can say that they are not actual tails.

(5) The breed of gator living in the Ozmone Planes. I don't recall the name and can't be bothered to look it up right now. The "avians" mentioned after are, of course, chocobos.

(6) The Enkelados, a type of slaven. This is a mark issued by a garif in Jahara.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Eventual slash (at least one-sided), some messing with canon, doesn't actually contain much of the game, crossover, spoilers through the end of the game, contains viera males (they do exist, according to SquareEnix... and there are only a few mentioned here anyway), lots of narrative.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter novel, concepts, and characters belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates of whom I am not one. Final Fantasy XII game, concept, plot, characters, and locations belong to SquareEnix and various others who I really don't have the space to name, it suffices to say that I am not among them.

Chapter 2

"It's stupidly complicated," Vaan grumbled 'quietly' to Penelo. Basch tried tuning out the boy – he did not oft complain, but the fact that they had to turn back to hit a switch to advance through the mine seemed to aggravate the boy – but it was difficult when he was marching in the middle of the group with Lady Ashe, acting as her primary protection. Had they not endured worse in the Lhusu Mines, and in the Sandseas? And yet the teen chose to complain about walking back through perhaps thirty meters of the mines to hit a switch.

The paths had been suspiciously clear of fiends, as though someone had gone through as recently as in the past ten minutes killing monsters as they went. Fran had picked up a discarded arrow somewhere along the way and seemed to take a shine to it, but Basch saw no other signs of life.

If one discounted the quiet roar of some tyrant-like monster in a secluded part of the mine. He hadn't liked the look of that section of the area and vowed to keep away from the tyrant as best he could. They were needlessly difficult to fell.

"It's to control the fiends," Larsa imparted his wisdom as only an Imperial could. "By changing the gates, they can trap strong fiends in the mines until Imperial troops can be dispatched to get rid of them. I've heard there are some flan that will attack when switches are pulled sometimes but all the miners are taught the appropriate spells to dispel them. It's really a very efficient system."

"Another bid for power by the Archadian Empire," Ashelia wrinkled her nose in a way unbecoming of her station. However, Basche had noticed she had become in many ways less than the princess than she once was through her long association with the Resistance. She was more like the common people.

That, more than anything, Basch was certain was what would one day make her a great leader of her people. She understood hardship and just how downtrodden her people had become. Assuming she could take back Dalmasca.

They were approaching the gate again, this time open. After Larsa's mention of flan, everyone had their weapons at the ready. Baltheir's gun was cocked, and Fran had strung her bow; Penelo was holding her staff in a defensive position while Vaan looked ready to lash out with his spear at the slightest provocation, and he had a dagger on his belt if there was too little room for the mid-range weapon. Basch and Ashe had both unsheathed their swords, a "just in case" measure that they suspected was anything but.

As they passed through the gate, the group discovered that this was indeed the case. Apparently, when they had flipped the switch several flan had appeared, as Larsa said. Worse, they'd had a minute or two to reproduce.

If any of them had forgotten since the last encounter with the damned gelatinous beasts, they quickly relearned that any variety of flan was nearly impervious to physical attack and that it was a far safer idea to use magic instead. Basch wasn't very good with spells, but he managed.

When dodging an attack from one of the fiends however, he saw Penelo suddenly trip and the spell she was casting was shot at the ceiling instead of at the flan between them. Basch moved to her aide as he was the closest, warding the flan away with a well-placed fire spell, and discovered that she had tripped over a person as he helped her to stand.

Probably the same person who had entered the mines before them; Basch pitied the poor, dead fool and hoped that it wasn't their flipping the switch that got him killed. There was no use in lamenting the death; all they could see of him really was his upper-torso and head, the lower portion covered by the goop of a dead flan not yet dissolved.

It took a bit longer, but eventually they subdued all of the fiends, leaving them finally alone in the dimly lit switch room. While Penelo and Fran cast healing spells on everyone in preparation for when they flipped the switch in case more flan appeared, Basch decided to investigate the... body. It was a little crass, perhaps, but in their quest to free Dalmasca they had to use every advantage, even if that meant stealing a weapon from a corpse. It's not like it was the first time Basch had done or considered doing such a thing.

However, when Basch turned, he found himself embarrassed for the body. It was a male – not unexpected – but very... bare skinned. It looked like he was wearing only an undergarment and strange strips of armor - perhaps the flan were acidic? - but his hair, wet with flan-goo, covered much of his torso. Despite the length of his hair, Basch could tell just from the face that this person was male.

And alive, if rather unconscious.

With a minute sigh, Basch pulled a phoenix down from his pocket. He had the least of anyone in the group at any given time, since he was usually the least aware of the group as a whole and most often too deep in the thick of things to be able to help his companions much. He opened the small phial and sprinkled the downy feathers of a baby phoenix over the fallen person.

And then he fell backwards on reflex as the previously unconscious man sprung suddenly to his feet. Which brought attention to his ridiculous shoes. They were... much like Fran's. Tall.

The man turned gracefully as Basch quickly stood. He held himself perfectly balanced in the tall shoes, and in them was just equal to Basch's height (Basch was not especially tall, but his height was respectable). Strange green eyes surveyed the group.

"So... you are the humes of whom Jote spoke," he said quietly. His accent was like that of the viera in the wood, untempered by hume speech, unlike Fran's. Green eyes passed behind Basch. "And a viera. You were unmentioned... and I do not know you. One who abandoned the Wood, perhaps? Either I passed you unknowing in the Wood," his voice here took on a skeptical tone, as if such a thing was impossible, "or else I was slow here. No matter, I suppose. You are here to rescue Mjrn, are you not?" Quite suddenly, he smiled. "I will aid you then."

"Wha – hold on a second! Who are you anyway? And why are you half-naked?" Basch by this time had made his way away from the strange stranger and could see the vague redness on Vaan's face as he carefully averted his gaze from the mostly-bare man.

"I am Lejn," came the reply. "And, for a male, I am well covered enough. The Wood does not ask for modesty, that is the prerogative of her residents."

"For a male viera, perhaps," Fran cut in. "But a hume?"

The man just smiled and suddenly cast a cura spell. The wash of energy hit Basch; it was surprisingly more invigorating than those cast by even Penelo. "Forgive me, the down only did so much, and I expect we will again be set upon when we hit the switch to continue on to Mjrn. As to you, Deserter," Lejn's voice became suddenly chill, and Basch knew he was addressing Fran, "I am no ordinary hume. The Wood would not suffer me to walk her verdant path otherwise."

* * *

Lejn eyed the seven before him. Three were young, not yet adults, then two he thought were perhaps in their twenties, but it was difficult to tell with humes. They aged at thrice the rate of viera after all, and Lejn had been told he didn't age like a hume, so he could only make a guess. Then there was one who was an older hume, but still in his prime so far as could be told.

Then... there was the viera. She wore armor like a Wood-Warder, and obviously wielded a bow, but Lejn could tell from the musculature of her arms that she was a "Master of Weapons", one of the higher ranked Wood-Warders who could become proficient in any weapon without difficulty. Or rather, that she had been. She had to be in her eighties at the very least, and she would have left before Lejn turned thirteen, at the oldest, so...

She had long since deserted. Lejn doubted the Wood could be more than the faintest whisper to those dull ears.

"You... smell of a Salve-Maker," the deserter said after a moment. She did not avert her gaze from his, apparently unashamed of his appellation for her. "You were truly taken in to the village, then?"

"I was," Lejn acknowledged. He didn't like that viera deserted their home. He didn't like that he had been forced to desert the Wood for Mjrn, but her opportunity to turn back had been taken from her, and he would give her that chance back. He had left of his own will and would accept the consequences of abandoning the Wood, whatever they may be.

A whisper of mist and the Mines told him to hurry.

"Mjrn is further into the cave; or rather, she is near at hand, but if we go that way we face a great Wyrm," Lejn informed the humes before him. "Introductions may be given on the path to her," he reached out a hand and pulled the faintly glowing switch behind him.

He knew better now than to attack these blue fiends with his arrows, and wisely saved them in favor of magic. Normally he might worry about running low on energy, but the Mines were thick with Mist. And, moreover, low level spells – the kind that had no "wash" effect that would hit more than just the one intended target – barely registered for him. Dyjs had told him when he was young that he was best suited for the use of magicks, which he most certainly was and had eventually discovered that there was a direct correlation between his ability to use magic and his endurance... but only in the negative sense. As his magic depleted so did his endurance, but increasing his magic only helped his endurance if he healed himself.

Still, the more negative part of that was negligible in a place with as much concentrated Mist as the Mines, or even in the Feywood.

When the fiends were subdued, they moved onward and Lejn was indeed subjected to introductions, though he had no taste for them. These humes were important to him only in so much as they would help in rescuing Mjrn and no further. At one point he cast a water spell on himself to wash away the lingering guts from the flan from his hair – it also served to make them shut up for a moment.

The youngest hume was called Larsa, from the Empire of Archadia, the youngest son of the ruler in fact (not that Lejn cared). His hair was dark and his clothes too fanciful to be practical, but he did well enough with his sword. The next two youngest were a blond boy and girl, Vaan and Penelo respectively. He respected that they didn't have to be there, but not that they were so... useless. Vaan was short tempered and kept telling him to put some clothes on, and while he seemed adaptable in combat it lessened his effectiveness in each area. Too little focus in any one area to be truly skilled. Penelo was very calm and kind, but next to useless in combat which made her place in the venture questionable, though she seemed an able magician.

After the young ones there were the two of middling age, still fresh to adulthood in Lejn's eyes. The female was the princess of her realm – again, Lejn didn't care – on some grand quest that would probably get her killed. The other was male with short hair and fancy yet utilitarian clothing. His weapon, however, was loud and hurt Lejn's ears. He'd never heard anything so loud!

Of the humes, the eldest was called Basch, also a blond, who was scarred and wise. He knew much of the fiends they fought – mostly how to fell them – and Lejn could tell that he wielded a blade naturally. Really, he was the only hume that _didn't_ annoy Lejn, because he knew when to be quiet and had seemed to accept that the viera-raised hume wasn't about to clothe himself in their manner. He obviously had faults but... it was likely humes simply became more tolerable with age.

Lejn tried not to pay attention. He had grown among female viera and supposed that he was immune to the regular lust of humes. However, he hadn't met many males for he did not attend the meeting of mates, being a hume, and there had been no other cause for a visitation from the males in his memory. He had seen them here and there, always from a distance, but now he thought, just perhaps, that this lack of interaction made him curious as to what males were like outside himself.

He could hold no interest in a viera by the Wood's mandate, but he found the humes interesting in their brash manner.

All such thoughts came to a pause – to be resumed later – when the viera introduced herself. Fran. Lejn knew that name, the name of Jote and Mjrn's sister who left years before Lejn's arrival in the Wood. She was the one who had stood up against her older sister's rule and, with her words, started the slow emigration of viera from their homeland. Before Fran, viera truly never left, but in the past fifty years there was at least one a year; five had left since spring just past, all bound for human lands. Lejn had lamented the leaving of Ktjn, one of his childhood playmates and a fellow student of Dyjs.

Her identity did not change his opinion of her, however. Fran, as a viera, held the unconditional acceptance of the Wood; even now the Wood would likely welcome her if she renounced her years with the humes. But Lejn... he was not supposed to leave the Wood until it told him so, and at that time he knew he would not be allowed back. When the Wood sent him away to defend her in a way that it seemed only he could, she would not open her bows to him any longer.

Perhaps that was because Lejn could hear the other lands that the viera seemed deaf to. Or perhaps the Wood wanted him to take a human lover. Maybe the Wood cared for him, or she could be ambivalent to all but his use in defending her when the time came.

Eventually they came upon another switch and fought off more of the gelatinous fiends that Lejn decided he hated only a little less than the brown quadruped from the Planes. After a round of healing they continued on.

This was it. Lejn knew immediately, because this was where the voices of the Mines was at its most disgruntled. Armored men staggered and fell, and the Mist was _thick_. He didn't hear what was said, only saw Mjrn staggering as if she had had too much Vision Dust and was in that terrible place between Sight and blindness. But it was also as though she was drunk on Mist, feral and simple.

She bounded off into the place the Mines had told him was the dwelling of the Wyrm. He could not tell the fool humes though, and could not turn back on his own. As he had thought previously, one lone hume was not enough to take down a great Wyrm, but perhaps six humes and a viera who might as well be a hume... yes, perhaps that would be enough. These humes were strong in battle, able to fight skillfully and fell foes that Lejn might be wary of. Perhaps it was the Mist talking, but he was suddenly looking forward to the battle to come.

He ran in their wake, tempering his speed that he not be the first sighted, but excited regardless. He had seen the strength of these humes, and thought that he was a fool to go against the Wood. She trusted these humes to save Mjrn, and so should he.

Not that he liked them, but... Mist sang in his blood, and he was ready to do his utmost in rescuing Mjrn.

* * *

The battle had been difficult, Lejn could say this without issue. The Wyrm – a Ringwyrm, a Tiamat – had been even larger than Lejn had expected. It was the strongest fiend that the Mines had fostered in the part, the only level where humes still walked, and Lejn knew that he couldn't have dreamed of fighting it alone. Perhaps he was, for the moment, stronger than any individual in this group, but together they were certainly stronger than him.

Throughout the fight Lejn didn't bother wasting arrows, instead giving his bow and arrows to Fran whose equipment was not so finely honed as his own, though near it. He had only his dagger and magicks, the former he didn't use at all making him even more maneuverable. He wasn't physically strong, he never had been. But he was dexterous and had a greater supply of Mist-reception Power than any of these by far – which the Mist in the Mines was constantly refueling – and his magic was stronger. He had once tried to be physically strong, but Dyjs had hit him and told him to focus on his strengths.

Which, really, was very good advice. His area effect spells were especially effective here, after all, when the fiend was too large for any of the effect to hit anything _but_ it, and he could fire off healing spells whenever any of his temporary companions were in need of it.

In all likelihood, the atypical hume realized, these people might have been able to kill the wyrm without his help. They would have had even more trouble with it of course but they were certainly stronger than Lejn had expected. The fiends outside the arena-like cavern must have been as much of child's play for them as him.

The Mines hummed idly, a little miffed that its great beast was felled, but it seemed resigned. It understood the reason besides. It was brother to the Wood, after all, and knew better than to keep her children from her.

The Wyrm fell after a lengthy battle; Lejn was still full to the brim with adrenaline, and the Mist was replenishing what power he had lost.

Mjrn appeared again, and Lejn made ready to follow if she fled. Instead, something blue and foul, a magicite of some sort, fell from her hand, shattering on contact with the ground. Lejn didn't need the Mines to tell him to keep far from… _that_. A strange shade, made of Mist and a curious armor, separated itself from Mjrn, and she collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut.

Lejn sucked in a harsh breath. "Mjrn…" He dashed forward only a little behind the Deserter who kneeled beside her sister.

"That thing inside her," Vaan's voice was quiet (for once), but Lejn heard him easily. "What was it?"

"I would also like to know…" Lejn trailed off as he saw his friend's eyes open. She, however, paid him no mind, her gaze glued on Fran, as if enraptured. Grateful that her sister had come for her. Lejn could expect no less. Mjrn was never so cold as Jote, and she had attempted to leave the Wood in pursuit of the middle sibling.

"Is it you?" Mjrn asked. Fran nodded, and Mjrn seemed to relax. She was unconscious again.

"I will carry her," Lejn offered. Not out of spite – he would be civil to Mjrn's sister, for now – but simply because while the others would need their weapons to fight off any fiends, Lejn had his magic and he was confident that he had enough to last between this place and the Village. Perhaps, if the Wood still liked him, she would make paths for them to return to Eruyt by that would be free of fiends. Maybe the Wood would not like that he had heard the voices of her brothers, the Plane and the Mines, but he could hope that she wouldn't mind.

No one contested him, and Lejn lifted Mjrn. He was not especially strong, never had been and never would be, but Mjrn was light and easy to carry. He followed behind the group, who were still adept in dispatching any hostile fiends despite any weariness from their long hours in the Mines.

Upon seeing the Mouth of the Mines, Lejn recalled just how _large_ the sky was, and how he had been unable to keep calm under the vast blue - orangish, now, with the hour. He hesitated, but conceded that he would need to leave the Mines to return Mjrn to the Wood. The Mines mentioned, in passing, a passage deep in the Mines, where the fiends were very strong and humes no longer walked, that had a passage into the FeyWood – Lejn dismissed this out of hand. If the fiends were strong, he could not go that way, and the FeyWood had a greater concentration of Mist than here, which might not do well for Mjrn's health.

"Hopefully our chocobos stayed put," Baltheir spoke as Lejn resumed his walk. "If not, the journey back won't be a pleasant one." The viera-raised hume could not help but agree. The Plane's voice was just on the edge of his hearing, wild and ready to fight. It did not discriminate, and it seemed heedless of Lejn's sensitivity.

Yes, the journey would be _most_ unpleasant should they not have… whatever it was Baltheir said. Lejn assumed it was something that would make the journey easier.

Then they were outside and Lejn was careful to avert his gaze from the sky. He could _feel_ how far away the cliff walls were, but the presence of the humes held back the feeling somewhat, as did the still unconscious viera in his arms. However, this side of the chasm was no longer uninhabited; six of the large avians from the plateau were walking about aimlessly, though they were yellow rather than red or black, and seemed more… docile. The ones above had a vicious look about but these seemed perfectly content to walk about and didn't react when they were approached by the humes.

"We've only got six chocobos," Penelo explained quietly, "so we'll have to double up a couple of them. Fran will probably want her sister to be with her. Lejn, do you mind who you ride with?"

Lejn opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head. He felt a little ill under that blue gaze, and did not wish to speak, not right now. And he didn't care who he rode with, so long as they got back to the jungle _quickly_. Would these humes understand how the sky made him feel? He doubted it. They had all grown outside the jungle, and Lejn had never heard of such a thing before… but, then, how many viera in the Wood had actually been under the sky without trees to block it? It was rare that viera left the Wood and were allowed to return.

Lejn clutched his friend just a little closer and kept his eyes glued to the hume in front of him. Baltheir, he thought by the vest.

They got on the great birds, and Lejn was made to ride one with the eldest of these humes, Basch. Vaan had claimed discomfort at the idea of riding with him and at him riding with any of the females; Basch volunteered after that point, presumably to prevent any arguments on the matter.

Lejn didn't even know what these truly were, never mind how to ride one, and had to take great care not to fall off as the birds darted up the steep incline that he surely could not have gone up while carrying Mjrn as he had initially planned. He also had to take great care not to dig his finger nails into the hume's flesh; while his nails were not so durable as a viera's, they were still grown longer than any of the humes. It would surely hurt, if he lost his control.

Lejn decided quickly that he did not like these birds, either. He much preferred walking.

Thankfully they were soon on the plateau, then in the stony area between the Plane and the Wood. They dismounted the birds, Lejn took Mjrn in his arms again, and they were in the Wood.

Song filled his ears, and Lejn staggered under it. The Wood was annoyed at his disobedience but pleased that he had managed to arrive back safely with her daughters. The last surprised Lejn, that the Wood still counted Fran among her children, but the Wood loved the viera and even one so long deserted was her child regardless of time away.

The wind stirred, and Mjrn woke again.

"Lejn?" she asked quietly, and the hume in question swiftly lowered her to her feet. In a moment she caught her balance. "Where is Fran? I saw –" then she stopped, because Fran was in her field of vision, and Lejn knew better than to keep the sisters apart now. The Wood still yearned for Fran, she was not reviled for her leaving, no matter how Lejn might wish to look down upon her.

Soon after, Mjrn explained why she left, and Lejn lamented his own deafness. She had come to him some days before, asking him to help discover why so many humes were traversing the Wood, but he had refused; only when the Wood whispered of her danger had he braved it. The Wood had told him not to leave in both instances, but the second time he ignored her in favor of his friend. He did not regret this.

There was talk of the blue magicite Mjrn had carried, that which Lejn knew he should avoid at all costs. Penelo, it seemed, carried a stone of like power. It _pulled_ at Lejn, but somehow he thought it was different from the other. No specter haunted it. He took a step back regardless.

"We should return to the village before nightfall," Lejn spoke when silence reigned over the assembled group. "It is Lente's Tear you are after, isn't it? That you might go to the Mountain." Lejn had never been far enough East to see more than the shadow of the Mountain. "The Wood has made one for you and given it to Jote in return for rescuing Mjrn. Come."

Just as he said, Jote gave them the Tear. Lejn sat on a bench and drowned himself in Wood-song. He had heard the voice of the Plane and of the Mines now, but neither were beautiful or loving like the Wood. And yet he knew he would be forced to leave this one day, his home; he would hear other songs.

_Just a while more_, he pleaded silently. _I just want this a little longer_.

"You live with the females," Fran observed. Lejn opened one eye to her; the Wood told him of her approach, and that her humes were setting up camp on the platform Jote was allowing them for the night. She didn't say it, but Lejn knew it was because of the Wyrm they would face before leaving; she wasn't so cruel as to send her sister, a Deserter though she was, at a _second_ wyrm in one day without proper rest.

A lamp was hung over the bench Lejn had curled up on, illuminating that section of the public platform – his personal one was several trees over – allowing him to identify how cautious the viera's gaze was.

"I do; I have since I was small, barely walking-age," Lejn admitted. "I heard the Wood even then, and she put me in the care of Dyjs."

"I knew Dyjs, once," Fran's voice was quiet. She sat beside him, which was strange in its own way, but Lejn hummed his acknowledgment. It was Dyjs who had told him Mjrn and Jote had another sister at all. "Is she still..." she paused.

"A taskmaster? More so now, I think, yes," allowed the hume. "But she is my mother in a way the Wood cannot be."

Fran understood.

"I will not go with you, it is not my time to leave the Wood," he continued after a moment. "But the Wood says I will leave soon. Perhaps our paths will again cross at that time. I think... that is destined. There is something important among you. Something about you all that makes the Wood sing louder."

Fran said nothing in response to this; Lejn suspected she couldn't. That night more than one hume slept cradled in the loving boughs of the Wood, and when morning came Lejn watched the strange group leave. There was something about them...

If they returned by way of the Wood, Lejn knew without a doubt he would travel with them. He only wished that time would be long in coming.

**Author's Note: I want to point out that the game plot does not cover the entirety of the story. There's a reason why I actually bothered to have it be Harry Potter who gets dropped with the viera. I could have done Aerith (which would have been pretty cool and probably would make more sense... she was actually my original idea, but I wasn't sure what kind of plot she could have), or Naruto, or any other number of characters. Just keep in mind that I specifically used Harry.**

**I hadn't intended to update this for a while – especially since I STILL haven't updated Founding Father – but I got started and couldn't stop. Ehheh ^^"**

**Some sections are quoted from the game. Script source from GameFAQs (type FFXII script and it's the third link - it was the only one my school didn't have blocked). And yes, I'm aware the conversation with Mjrn doesn't take place in the middle of the Wood, but Lejn would insist she be taken straight to the village in case there was something wrong with her, unlike the party, who were content to sit about in the Mines to converse with her.**

**Thanks to Araceil for betaing :3**


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Eventual slash (at least one-sided), some messing with canon, doesn't actually contain much of the game, crossover, spoilers through the end of the game, contains viera males (they do exist, according to SquareEnix... and there are only a few mentioned here anyway), lots of narrative.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter novel, concepts, and characters belong to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates of whom I am not one. Final Fantasy XII game, concept, plot, characters, and locations belong to SquareEnix and various others who I really don't have the space to name, it suffices to say that I am not among them.

Chapter 3

"Thank you for your business!" piped up the small creature – a "moogle" Lejn had learned. It was covered in pale fur with a cat-like face and had a strange ball of fluff connected to its head by an antenna, as well as bat-like wings sprouting out its back. Its clothing was similar in quality to that of the hume Balthier, though it looked rather ungainly clad as such. It had a companion, another moogle, but it had vanished that morning in search of "better merchandise". Lejn wasn't sure what that meant.

The hume nodded, unsure as to why the moogle was thanking him. He hadn't done anything worthy of thanks, just traded a few pelts he had collected in the Wood and a couple salves for the "gil" humes and other races used to trade for goods. The viera had little use for currency, and so the coins held no value to Lejn other than what they could do for him in dealing with these moogle creatures. Many of the metal discs were traded back to the moogle in return for hume attire – a shirt worn open, long trousers, and boots – for the sake of the trial Lejn knew was to come.

So the Wood had spoken, and so Lejn knew, he would leave with the same group of humes he had previously met when next they arrived. They had left the Wood only that morning, and though Lejn did not know _when_ they would return, he knew that that time was not terribly far off. By that time he would need to become accustomed to wearing hume garments rather than his own. Vaan had complained oft enough in the few hours they had travelled together that Lejn could easily anticipate that they would once more have to endure the complaints and commentary, something that could easily be avoided. Lejn was a hume after all. It stood to reason that, when he was banished to the hume world, he should follow their customs as best he could. This, of course, included attire.

His torso found the shirt awkward and restricting, but he would grow accustomed to it. Technically it was some variety of armor, but he did not care for the extra protection, only that it hindered him. The trousers were likewise irksome, preventing him from moving it quite the same manner as he was accustomed. His only consolation was that he still wore his viera made garments beneath, preventing chafing if nothing else.

The worst, however, were the boots. He had returned to the moogles – for they were both present once more – to ask how precisely he was to wear such strange things on his feet. They had instructed him on the method of "lacing" for a small fee of a few more of his gil, and when he thought he had it right, he stood –

And promptly fell on his tail ornament, sending a shooting pain up his spine.

His feet ached terribly as he tried to place them flat, and he attempted once more to stand. His legs protested violently, and he winced.

"If you have been wearing those heels for so long," piped up the more adventurous of the moogles, "I don't think you can wear hume-boots. Your legs aren't muscled for walking in them, and you'd have to relearn how to walk."

"Yes, I…" Lejn grimaced and tore the contraptions off as quickly as he could, uncaring that they would now be useless. "I can see as much."

The moogles giggled at him, apparently amused at the atypical display of clumsiness, and Lejn donned his stilettos again. He was best off with his tall heels anyway; it was time to continue with his plan.

It was not uncommon for Salve-Makers to train with the Wood-Warders, though the fervor with which Lejn did so was unheard of. The roles of the viera were so easily set that the Salve-Makers never cared for combat more than to be able to venture into the less tame parts of the Wood and gather the ingredients they required. Lejn had perhaps been a bit more vigorous previously, showing that he yet contained the hume love for war and combat, though he claimed otherwise, but now the intent he put into his combat skills was unheard of in him.

At length, he ventured into the part of the Wood that was nearest the Feywood where the stronger fiends dwelled. When he was strong enough that even the diresaurs living there posed no threat, he ventured into the Feywood. At first, he could hardly fight one Mandragora before retreating to heal his wounds, but the combat experience stacked up, and he was able to travel through several sections of the Feywood.

The Wood did not mind this, endorsed it even, but Lejn still did not like the Feywood. The voice in it was sinister. The song was tainted; it was older than the Wood, it was the Wood's mother in a way, but it was madly rambling always. The thickness of the Mist drove it to lengths of lunacy, only having reason intermittently within its ranting. Telling Lejn to flee it. That what stood at the other end was not for him and he would be wise to keep away. That men could not pass it for the Great Fiend it held in its belly, so strong that even the Crystal of the Feywood could not keep it at bay.

* * *

Lejn knew after a month that the humes would be coming again soon. The Wood told him as much, passing the Word from many Lands away, telling Lejn to be prepared to meet them at the Entrance to the Feywood.

And he _was_ prepared, to all lengths he could think. He had hume clothes, had sold more "loot" to the moogles so as to have gil to spend in the hume realms he would eventually come across, preserved and packed food, and he had created several mixtures he applied to his arrows for different effects rather than the simple sap effect he had instilled them with previously. Lejn had made a mixture for fire and ice, and gained aid from the other Salve-Makers in creating even arrows of Dark and Holy power, though they were difficult to craft and only worked half of the time that he wanted them to. He only hoped this would be enough in the trials to follow.

He would give everything for the Wood, even his own place there. Perhaps, Lejn pondered, the Wood had planned that. But he did not mind.

When the humes journeyed to the Feywood, he met them.

"Greetings," he nodded to them as they approached the entrance; all but Fran seemed surprised at his presence. Perhaps she could hear the whispers of the Wood, somewhat. Or maybe Jote had told her when they had stayed the night in the Wood. Larsa, he noted was absent, which was not a bad thing. Battle such as that was not suited to such young hume children. "The Wood has said I am to guide you through the Feywood."

"And after?" Balthier gave him a once over, obviously noting the change in attire. Lejn did not flinch under the gaze, though for reason unknown he felt a little proud when he saw Basch giving him a similar glance. Not the same, just similar.

"It is the Wood's wish that I should travel with you after, and leave her verdant path from today forth," Lejn did his best not to let his sadness at the Wood's decision leak into his tone, but it was difficult. "I have been fighting to become stronger since last we met, in the Feywood herself, that I would be of best use to you. I gather in your journeys to the North you have also become stronger, better able face whatever comes after the Feywood."

There was a moment of silence. "We make for Giruvegan," Ashelia, the princess of the hume world, stated finally, "to meet, and hopefully thwart, Doctor Cidolfus Bunansa. He aims to use the Nethicite as a weapon once more, and… and we cannot allow him to do so. The Empire needs no such weapon in their grasp when they already have the Midlight Shard and the Dusk Shard."

Giruvegan… Lejn's shoulders tensed ever so slightly. He knew that name, heard the Feywood whisper it over and over. That was perhaps the source of the Feywood's madness. But the Mist would be thick there, and he would be strong. The Wood surely knew everything, be it from the whispers of the other Lands or from some Other source, and she would not send him so easily to his death.

"So… hold on, why are you coming with us?" Vaan furrowed his brow. "Last time you didn't even want to talk, so what changed?"

"I already said, did I not? The Wood is done with me; it is my duty now to protect her from afar, and by her Word it is with you that this goal would be best accomplished," Lejn adjusted his posture slightly. "If I am to live among my own race, it is best I learn from those whom I have already met. If this is disagreeable to you, I will find another method by which I might fulfill my duty."

"The more the merrier, right Vaan?" Lejn thought he was starting to see the blonde girl's use. Penelo calmed the male quickly, and Lejn suspected that he was a force of some import in the group, though for what reason was unknown.

"Right," he looked vaguely put-out, but suddenly agreeable. What sway did that girl hold over him? "I guess you were pretty useful in the mines, and not getting lost for once on our way to Giruvegan would be nice. The more of us there are the easier it should be to defeat any fiends…"

"Shall we consider you a Guest then? You don't seem the type to take orders," Balthier seemed amused as he said this. "I doubt gambits are commonly used by your people, and we haven't the time to teach you just now."

"Guest?" Lejn tilted his head slightly. "If that is the wish of you and yours, so be it." He wondered what a gambit was, but decided that he would remain ignorant until he needed to know.

From there, they trekked through the Feywood. Lejn was able to ignore its call and led his companions through, giving warning when they were coming upon the Great Fiend that resided near the Crystal. He hoped they would fare well against it; he had never dared go past the Crystal. They perhaps had more trouble individually against fiends of the Feywood than Lejn did, but he had come to understand the precise methods of their dispatchment while the other humes and Fran were neophytes to the Feywood.

His coordination with the group, however, was clumsy. They all seemed to know where they were and who needed what done – indeed, when Lejn had taken a blow from the Great Fiend that nearly knocked him unconscious, a potion of some variety – for the Great Fiend manipulated the mist to _take_ their magicks from them rather than add to them, leaving Lejn light-headed – was on him in moments from Penelo, who had at the time been beside Vaan, not even in line-of-sight. They all worked around him and though Lejn pulled his weight well enough, he wondered what warrior's sense it was that allowed them to do so.

It was after they defeated the Great Fiend – no simple task, but between the seven of them no great challenge either – that Lejn became not entirely certain of where to proceed. But the Feywood herself supplied the answer to his quandary. A great gust of mist billowed by him in a breeze and brought with it a fell scent that, Lejn knew, heralded from the deepest parts of the Feywood.

"We go this way," he said softly, training his ears to hear beyond the healing spells traded between his comrades. "The mist thickens and… darkens this way." He could think of no better single word for the mist than dark. Not in color, but in nature. If he were to cast a Dark spell here, he knew it would be stronger than had it been cast at the entrance of the Feywood, and stronger still the further to their goal that they should wander.

The fiends would only get stronger from here, he knew. Perhaps there would even be fiends of the diresaur's family. His greatest consolation was that the Feywood, mad though she was, never whispered to him of wyrms.

A wyrm fostered in the Feywood would surely be a fiend of immense power, on par with a Great Fiend.

After resting in the area made safe by the Feywood's Crystal, they moved on. Lejn took point, listening to the Feywood for signs of where to go, which bends to wind about, and what trouble lie ahead. With the mad rambling it was half incomprehensible, but the more he steeped himself in her madness, to more he could make sense of her.

While the rest of the party walked along behind, the eldest hume, Basch, strode forth to join him.

Lejn glanced over at him, eyes straying longer than he might normally. To see a male was still strange for him. The viera males lived so far separate, and he always took care to avoid humes who ventured into the Wood, so aside from himself he had rarely seen any. Compared to the curves of the female viera, a hume male was… interesting.

"You are a strong magician on your own, and a great archer," the blond man complimented, jarring Lejn from his inspection. "Your instincts do well by you. However, if you are to be friend to us henceforth, it would do you well to understand gambits. If you are not against learning?"

He hesitated for but a moment before replying, "Any skill I should be taught to aid in my defense of the Wood and her verdant path is one I should learn." Lejn threw his long hair, tied at the bottom with a vine to keep it clumped together, over his shoulder. It was still full of pieces of the Great Fiend, and he could groom himself while he learned of these "gambits".

Perhaps, in the future, he should cut his hair to match a hume style, or at least more the length of a male viera rather than the females. Of the hume males he had encountered, Basch's was the longest, and yet it was long short of Lejn's.

"Then I would beg you permit I teach you now. In its basic form, a gambit is a spell," Basch pulled out a small yellow square from his pocket. "A little yellow tag bearing the tiniest shard of magicite within, just as this one, is what a gambit is attached to, and many put together will form a set of priorities. The more in tune one can make his magic to these, the more priorities he can keep track of in battle. Everyone in our party has their highest priority on healing injured allies. The tags are also all connected, so that my tag can tell, by its communication with Balthier's tag, if he needs to be healed, and once someone else starts to respond, it will quiet.

"A gambit can also detect enchantments on a being or fiend. Mine can detect when the enchantment Bravery has worn off of me, alerting me that I should cast it again. Penelo's will tell her to cast dispel on a fiend with positive enchantments such as a hastening or faith spell upon it.

"Lastly, they can detect the state of a fiend. Because of the high mist in most fiends, there have been gambit enchantments developed that detect even if a fiend is going to target you, and it will tell you which fiend it is that has targeted you, and, if you set it right, it can even prioritize which ones to attack first based on strength or vitality."

"I… I see, so this is how you all fight as if with a single mind," Lejn pulled a final twig from his hair before tossing it back over his shoulder again. It was too tangled to pull more out until he found time to bathe. "Will you teach me to use them?"

"I cannot," admitted Basch. "Not because I would not be an able teacher, but because you must work them yourself to decide what you want your gambits to help you to do, and learn how to organize them. Experience is the only teacher. I can only lend you my archive of gambit enchantments and the spare gambit we keep for our guests. I acquired it from the princess for you after the defeat of the Rafflesia."

"I understand. You have my thanks, Basch."

Lejn looked at the man again. His face was so different from what Lejn was accustomed to. Vaan, at least, had a lean face and upturned nose like a viera, and Balthier's coloration was close to a feol's, of which the hume had met only one, and bore the same upturned nose. Their lean bodies made them less alien as well.

Basch, however, was entirely different from anyone Lejn had met. He was tall, roughly the same height as Lejn with his heels (though the hume did not fancy to discover his height without them, due to the pain), and broad of shoulder. The stomach Lejn could see through the man's clothes was tanned – despite what he had heard in introduction of the man being trapped in an underground prison for years – and his hair was a yellower shade than the youngest humes. The scar across his forehead reminded Lejn of the small white mark upon his own brow, but that was the only similarity.

Lejn could also see a little hair on the man's chest, which was fascinating. Lejn had some hairs upon his own chest, but they had grown in blonde and were very fine, falling out before they reached an inch long, while Basch's were darker than the hair upon his head and curled. The muscled arms also drew his eyes. Lejn's arms were strong from his bow, but he knew to swing the man's blade would tire him quickly, while Basch seemed capable of fighting for hours without rest.

It was only the sound of a branch being crushed around a bend that tore his gaze away, and Lejn was off with the party, stringing his bow and preparing to take down the beast that blocked their path.

The shoot of warmth in his body identifiable as lust, something the hume had experienced in only a vague sense, was curious. Then again, perhaps growing up surrounded by viera females – who were quite attractive by female standards, to both humes and viera – perhaps it was inevitable that he should look elsewhere.

He would think on it later.

* * *

They made camp in the first pavilion they found. They dared not wander the Feywood through the night, not knowing how far Giruvegan may be, armed with only the hint the pavilion gave them, whispered by the Feywood herself through the wind that even the humes could hear her.

Lejn shuddered under that fell breeze. What power did this ancient forest hold that she could make herself heard even by _humes_?

Whether it was better she was mad was uncertain.

Still, he was glad to have something above his head for the night. Though he could see little through the thick mists before him, it was too open; for all he could feel they remained in the Feywood, trees here would be scarce.

He would do this for the Wood though. It was unlikely humes had the open confinement of the Wood to base their cities upon. There would be open skies, and open lands, and no great trees in which to make his new home. If he was to live forevermore as a hume, there was naught for him to do but try to tolerate it, to lose his fear.

In the night, he and Vaan shared a shift at watch, the younger attempting to find common ground with him, but failed. Lejn saw a child in him, idealistic, but angry, and driven by his desire for vengeance. The boy said he fought for Dalmasca, but he was clouded by his rage over the death of his brother; Lejn heard the story, and understood why even months after he must have learned the truth, the boy had still hesitated to heal Basch during the battle with the Great Fiend of the Feywood.

Where Vaan saw a common spirit of sorts – Lejn was leaving hi home to defend it from afar, just as he – Lejn was only struck by the naiveté displayed by the young hume.

In the morning they set out, following the illusion spells as the Feywood demanded on them. She was more lucid now, the nearer they drew to their goal, and Lejn could hear her giving warning that there were fiends. Fiends and fiends and more fiends, large bipedal fiends like the ones Lejn had seen when he entered the Plains, covered in furs and stronger than the diresaurs of the Wood. Testing his new knowledge of gambits on these fiends – for he had set priorities to the one Basch bequeathed to him in the night – Lejn found a simple mix that he found best, hopeful that he would not have overmuch difficulty with them in the future.

It took the greater part of that morning before they found themselves before a great door. Fran read the inscription there aloud, and Lejn frowned. Gigas. What was Gigas? They Feywood whispered to him, whispered of betrayers and powers beyond the Lands, things called Gods, and war. _War __war __war __war __war -_

A sudden spike of mist centered on Ashelia broke Lejn from the Feywood's call, and fire bloomed in the sky. The great being that appeared from the dark plumes was some terrible mix of hume and fiend, bearing two head and four arms, decked in red furs with great curled horns upon the greater head and thick legs with strange hardened round feet, as if made of stone. The spear it bore glistened with flame.

_The __Gigas! __Belias th__e __Gigas, __betrayer __of __the __gods! __Dark __fire __of __the __world, __fueller __of __wars, __guardian __of __powers __beyond __humes, __Gigas!_ The Feywood was maddened beyond its previous state, but there was more sense to it as well. The Lands knew of this then, this creature of dark fire and burning hatred pouring from it.

The Gigas approached the gates and in a great effort of fire and mist they parted for it; the Gigas vanished from the effort, and with his disappearance the gates began to close. There was no time for thought, discussion, or preparation.

They ran in, all together, and the gate slammed shut behind them.

* * *

After taking the Way Stone into Giruvegan, Lejn began hearing things.

Giruvegan, though a distinct Land from the Feywood (for Lejn had lost the sound of her voice upon going through the gates), was quiet. Or so it had been above ground. There had been an obvious sense that there was a Something, but what that Something was Lejn could not place, and he had been on edge as they dined under the wide sky. The lack of mist had been equally suspicious, but there was nothing he could do but stay vigilant.

The beast they faced before taking the Way Stone, though strong, had been easily defeated. Giruvegan barely stirred at its defeat, only changing the flow of mists to allow the Way Stone to activate.

It was when they arrived at the Way Stone's other end that Lejn began to feel it. Giruvegan was an old land, abandoned and lonely, but still coherent. His way was slow, and Lejn's greatest hints to his way were simply how he felt the mists moving, for the mists beneath the grand city were thick, flowing out from what appeared to be a chunk of magicite bigger than the Wood herself.

The roiling mists renewed his strength as food had not, and he felt strangely tireless as they plowed through fiend after fiend, opening pathways throughout the underground city to reach the mist's source.

While the mists here were not so dense as the Feywood – for those were added to by the cold and natural fog – they were much more potent, and Lejn could feel himself grow stronger with every spell he cast. Seeing how the deserter acted, teetering dangerously in her heels and constantly overextending herself despite her title as Master of Weapons, Lejn was for the first time in his life glad to not be viera. His noble mission may be because of his hume status, but he did not envy Fran her sensitive senses.

He could only imagine how much worse it would be if her ears were not dulled by the humes, if she could hear the low, angering murmurs of Giruvegan.

During a short break – Lejn did not need one, for relying on his spells as he had was saving his strength greatly – Basch checked in with Lejn on his work with the gambits.

"You have a talent to fight," observed the man. "And more still with the mist, if you have so many priorities to your gambit. Fran told us you were one of the 'salve-makers' of the Eruyt Village, rather than the warriors. How did you come by your skill?"

"All of the village are taught the use of the bow," Lejn was short on it. "The dagger I learned from Dyjs, my teacher and the one who raised me from a babe upon my finding. She insisted that finesse with a dagger was important for all salve-makers, though Jote disagrees. I have finesse, but the skill to kill with it fails in me. And my magick is what made them take me, I think. The Wood told me that when I appeared I was better in tune with the mist and with her than even her last chosen emissary."

He took care to avoid looking at the viera at the last. That she would abandon the Wood when she wa being bestowed that honorable position… Jote may have done well to step in, but the Wood had ached for her departed Chosen.

"Appeared?" Penelo asked. She was seated with her feet dangling over the edge of the platform they sat on, her staff across her knees as she caught her breath.

"I, too, have wondered how you came to the Wood," the deserter intoned. Lejn supposed that he no longer had the right to call her that, though his exile was not self-imposed as hers was.

"There is little to tell. Dyjs told me that I appeared before her in a gust of mist when I was too young yet to walk under my own power," Lejn shook his head and took a seat as well, careful to sit in a way that his tail ornament did not harm him. "She was then only one-hundred and fourteen years old. She said she was already past her prime, though she was not, and took me because that was the Green Word. I grew among viera, knowing from early childhood that one day the Wood would send me away to defend her. I am her Champion. That is all there is to tell."

"'Only' a hundred and fourteen?" Vaan cringed. "You say that like it's so young! You're a hume, just like me!"

Lejn looked to the boy for a moment. "I am curious, Vaan. How old to you take me for?"

"Balthier's age, I suppose," replied the Dalmascan boy. His upturned nose crinkled. "You might be a year or two older than him, I guess, but that's it."

"Basch, save Fran you are the eldest here, yes?" Lejn already knew the answer, and when Basch confirmed by stating his age at thirty-six, he released a small exhale that, among the viera, passed for a chuckle. "Oh, I apologize, I had thought us the same age. Forgive me. I have been with the viera for forty years now, and I wondered how humes aged. Now I see Dyjs was correct in saying I do not age as humes do." With the rest stunned, Lejn drew his bow and slew a demonic fiend, not unlike the ones populating the Wood, and bid them continue.

They pressed onward, though this was not the last Lejn would hear on the matter of his age.

* * *

Giruvegan's voice remained a low rumble in the back of Lejn's thoughts. He kept keen attention to it, if only for mood, for the voice was too low and slow in his head to catch individual words. It didn't event spike when they fought a strange wyrm-like beast that Ashelia, who utilized the power of Libra, claimed was called Tyrant (though what sense was made by this when it was normally the diresaur-like beasts that bore the name was beyond Lejn), which was difficult only for its tenacity.

With the mist so sharp here, none of them had missed their inability to use technicks; the only one that would have helped was the "charge" ability that allowed them to suck in mist quickly, after all.

And then they were within the crystal, and Lejn discovered something new.

Giruvegan was not a land. It was the crystal, and the crystal did not like that humes dared tread within him. The low rumblings before had been warnings to keep out, but now they were in, he was attacking their party with every fiend he had and spawning more when he ran out. It was almost a relief when they found themselves in a strange chamber fighting another spirit that was, according to Fran, kin to Belias The Gigas. It was constantly changing what magick Lejn could cast on it, so rather than play its game he stayed back with Penelo to heal and bolster those whose skills could best it.

The crystal that erupted from the defeated "Esper" surprised Lejn, though it seemed the group had encountered several in the past. Basch, who struck the killing blow, caught the crystal when it flew it him, shattering in his hand to allow some strange arrangement of lines to burst forth and attach itself to him. They crawled up his arm and disappeared under his shirt; judging by the tiny pale blue lines he could see beneath Vaan's vest and the very faint red design he had only recently noticed upon Ashelia's breast, he thought that it would come to rest over Basch's heart.

It was when they reached the next Way Stone that Giruvegan made his true displeasure known. The others didn't even notice as Lejn fell to his knees while they disappeared in a flash at the Way Stone.

While they were away, learning of the Occuria and their designs for Ashelia, Lejn found himself linked deeper with Giruvegan than he had ever been with the Wood.

It hurt.

"**You trespass, hume**," the deep voice of the crystal was suddenly forming words - or, as Ljen realized, he could now understand those words he had been previously ignorant to. They were not the words of the Wood, which when he was young had simple seemed expressions of intent before he learned her language, nor was it the tongue used throughout the races of Ivalice, but something Other. Older. "**You do not belong here.**"

"I am sent by the Wood to defend her verdant path from the defilers vying for power in our world, where I do and do not belong no longer matters," Lejn defended himself, his mind's tongue clumsy with the not-language it spoke.

"**You do not belong to Ivalice, you do not belong to your Wood nor her verdant path, and you do not belong on my crystalline path hume**," The voice echoed low in his head again. "**You will protect us, and you shall trespass no longer. The evil you will face is one following on your heels, not the evil you seek. You will protect us.**"

Suddenly there was floor beneath him again, and Lejn trembled. The weight of that mind still hung upon him, watching him, and he had no... He could not...

He pulled himself into silence and waited for the others to return, unable to think.

**Author's Note: Next chapter should end the game plotline (I think/hope), and after that is the Harry-oriented plot (which, to be fair, isn't very long either, only another chapter or two, maybe three depending on how long certain sections take to complete themselves). However, I recently moved, and apparently the old notebook I kept all my plots in ended up in the throw away pile. So I'm going off of memory and my chatlogs with Araceil.**

**Sorry you had to wait almost 2 years for this. Basic explanation is that I lost interest in this story, suddenly lost interest in all fanfic, then by the time I was back to normal life was flying around – I'm on my second boyfriend since then (9 months and happily counting, thanks), college is mad, and other basic things. So. Sorry I haven't been writing but that's now changing. Doesn't help that my sister lent out the PS2 a week after I posted chapter 2 and I STILL haven't got it back!**


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